


right where i belong

by Copperstown



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Episode 6, Episode Tag, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romance, Sex, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23032915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copperstown/pseuds/Copperstown
Summary: Puifai is a sweet girl. She’s beautiful and funny and smart, and everything in Type is telling him that she’s exactly the kind of girl he goes for, and that he should be so damn into her that being invited up to her room would make fireworks go off in his head.It doesn’t. All he feels is dread.It feels wrong because she’s not Tharn.*Type's POV on the night he and Tharn get together for real.
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 432





	right where i belong

**Author's Note:**

> This started with me wanting to write what happens between Type and Puifai before he goes to see Tharn and then expanded into Type's point of view for the whole night.
> 
> Title is taken from the final line of Hercules' "Go The Distance"

This is all wrong.

It’s been a while since Type last slept with a girl, but not so long that he doesn’t remember what it’s supposed to be like, and it’s not _this_.

Puifai is a sweet girl. She’s beautiful and funny and smart, and everything in Type is telling him that she’s exactly the kind of girl he goes for, and that he should be so damn into her that being invited up to her room would make fireworks go off in his head.

It doesn’t. All he feels is dread.

He’s doing everything right, the way he remembers. He’s flirting and charming, and Puifai doesn’t fall for all of it, but she still thinks he’s cute, and he can tell that it’s working. He knows where she thinks this is going. It’s where _he_ thought it was going, too, until this moment, standing in Puifai’s dorm room, thinking that everything is wrong.

“So. What do you think?” Puifai asks, smiling softly.

“Of what?” Type asks. He’s keeping up his bravado, even though it doesn’t feel like he’s supposed to be here, doing this.

“Of the dorm, silly,” Puifai says with a small laugh and a roll of her eyes. “You said you might consider this dorm for next year, remember?”

Type nods and looks around. It’s easier than looking at Puifai’s face.

“It looks good.” He forces his eyes back to her and forces a smile on his face. “So do you.”

And things move from there, the way things do, and Type isn’t enjoying any of it. It still all feels utterly wrong. He’s not sure why, until she wraps her arms around his neck, and suddenly it all clicks into place.

It feels wrong because she’s not Tharn.

Maybe it’s because Tharn is the only one he’s had sex with in so long, that’s just what he’s used to, but the second that thought enters his head, he has to dismiss it again. He’s not hard. He’s not turned on _at all_ , and even if Tharn is what he’s used to, he’d be turned on by a hot girl making out with him. This is more than that.

Type wraps his arms around her, feels her curves and softness, and it’s wrong. He wants to feel something harder and sturdier, something with the strength to knock the wind out of him. He kisses her more, deeper, tastes her lipstick and the food she ate, and all he wants, all he can think about, is what Tharn tastes like and what Tharn’s kisses are like.

He doesn’t want Puifai underneath him. He wants Tharn on top of him.

He thinks about Tharn on top of another man, and his blood runs cold.

That’s what he told Tharn he could do. He told Tharn that he wouldn’t care, it wouldn’t be any of his business, if Tharn had sex with someone else. That’s what casual lovers were all about. Type wanted to date Puifai, so obviously Tharn could date someone else.

But now he’s really thinking about it for the first time (while kissing Puifai… his head is really not in the game here), and it makes something unpleasant spread through his body, from his heart to his fingertips.

He doesn’t want Tharn to be with anyone else. It makes him feel sick.

If this is how Tharn has felt about Type being with Puifai… God, Type has been a dick.

He’s been ignoring the signs for a while. He’s been ignoring that half the time when he’s with Puifai, he’s been thinking of Tharn. He’s been ignoring that every story he tells her, every detail he experiences while out, he wants to share with Tharn. But he can’t ignore it any longer.

He can’t do this.

“I can’t do this,” he says.

They both sit up and Puifai gives him a confused look. “Can’t do what?” she asks.

“ _This_ ,” Type replies, gesturing to her and the bed.

“Why not?” Puifai asks. She seems mostly confused, but there’s some disappointment in her face too, and Type feels terrible. He’s basically been leading her on.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he feels like he needs to say that first.

“What are you sorry for?” Puifai asks.

“I’m dating someone.”

Type didn’t even realize the words would come out of his mouth before he heard his own voice saying them.

But there it is. He can’t deny it to himself anymore. He wants to date Tharn. He wants to be with him. He wants Tharn to be his boyfriend, and he wants to be Tharn’s boyfriend in return. He doesn’t regret what he said. He means it.

Puifai’s face goes from confusion to anger in seconds, and Type feels awful.

“You’re _what_?” she asks.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re dating someone? But I thought Champ said you were single?” Puifai looks mostly confused now, as if the initial anger has passed and now she’s trying to make some kind of sense of this. Type can’t even make sense of it all himself.

“It’s complicated,” he admits.

“Complicated?” Puifai echoes.

“Yeah,” Type says with a grimace. This will not look or sound good to Puifai.

“But… but you _are_ already dating someone?” she asks, anger back in her voice.

Type nods a little. “Yeah.”

Puifai slaps him.

It would be a lie to say that he saw it coming, because he didn’t, but he’s not exactly surprised either. He definitely deserves it. He’s been taking her on dates and flirting with her for weeks, and now he’s telling her something that sounds suspiciously like she’s been his bit on the side (more like that’s what Tharn was, and now Type inexplicably wants him to be more).

“You asshole!” Puifai shouts. Type doesn’t even turn his head to look at her. “You led me on when you’re already dating someone?! What kind of cheap idiot do you think I am?!”

“That’s not it,” Type says quickly, finally looking at her again. She looks furious and hurt, and Type really can’t blame her. He also can’t make him say anything else, except just, “I’m really sorry.”

 _I’m really sorry. I have feelings for a guy. My roommate, to be specific. I think I was just so into the idea of being into you that I thought I really was. I’m not into you at all because I’m only into him. I thought we could be a thing, but I keep just thinking of him, so I can’t do this with you_.

He can’t say any of that.

Instead, he says, “I should go,” and gets up from the bed.

“Yeah, you should,” Puifai says hotly. Her face is red with anger, and her eyes are shining with unshed tears, and Type feels like the world’s biggest asshole, both for what he’s doing to Puifai and for what he’s done to Tharn.

“I’m sorry,” Type says again. He moves to leave, but then turns around to face her again. “I won’t see you again.”

“At all?” Puifai asks.

“Yeah. I don’t think I should.” He doubts Tharn would appreciate it if he kept hanging out with the girl he attempted to date. “I won’t contact you again either.”

“So you’re serious about this? You’re really already dating someone?” Puifai says, and her tears finally spill over. “You’ve been leading me on, and now you’re just gonna leave and not show up again?”

“I’m sorry.” He’s said it a million times and he’ll keep saying it, but it won’t change anything. “It’s complicated, and I didn’t mean to lead you on, but… this person means a lot to me. I can’t do this with you. And I can’t see you again either.”

“Fuck you,” Puifai spits.

“I’m really sorry,” Type says. He considers if he should say something else, maybe try to explain the situation, but his head is a mess of thoughts about Tharn and how he’s hurt him and is hurting Puifai and how mad Champ will probably be with him, and he’s too scared to say anything that could reveal exactly who it is Type has feelings for and why it’s complicated. So instead, he just says, “I’ll leave now.”

“Well, good riddance!” Puifai throws a pillow after him. Type lets it hit him and then makes a run for it.

He has to get home as fast as possible.

Type is thrumming with nervous energy by the time he makes it back to the dorm. He deletes his chat with Puifai, and then her contact information, because he’s serious about this. He’s made his decision, but he doesn’t know if Tharn will accept his apology or not.

All he can do is tell Tharn what happened and hope Tharn forgives him. The thought of not being forgiven hurts.

Tharn is lying in bed, with his back to the door and his headphones in. Type approaches him slowly. Tharn doesn’t move. For a moment, Type wonders if he’s asleep, and then realizes he doesn’t care. Even if he is, Type needs to do this. He’ll wake Tharn up if he has to.

Slowly, he gets into Tharn’s bed behind him, and wraps an arm around his waist. Tharn still doesn’t move, but that also means that he’s not kicking Type out of his bed. Type supposes that’s the best he’s gonna get, given how he’s behaved recently.

“I’m sorry, Tharn,” he says quietly. He feels like crying, and he thinks Tharn can probably hear it in his voice. He fists his hand in Tharn’s top nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Tharn slowly removes his headphones and takes a deep breath that sounds suspiciously wet. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks, just as quiet as Type.

It takes Type a moment to get the words out. “I slept with Puifai.” Tharn doesn’t react, so Type keeps going. “She invited me to her room. And suddenly, I remembered what I said to you. That you can have sex with anybody, and it’s not my business. It pains me.”

Admitting this is a lot easier than he thought it would be. Maybe because he’s too anxious about Tharn’s response and reaction to really feel anything else.

“Why?” Tharn asks after a pause.

“I don’t know,” Type replies, shaking his head. “The thought of you being with another man… makes me insane.” He thinks he might burst into tears at any moment now, and Tharn is getting tense in his arms. He hopes to God that it’s a good sign. “Why? When I was hugging her soft body, I kept thinking about yours. While I was kissing her, all I thought about was your kiss. Whenever I’m with her, I’m always thinking of you.”

He thinks Tharn might be crying now. He can’t see much of his face, but he’s making these soft noises that could be quiet crying.

Tharn shifts, just enough so that Type can see his profile. He’s got tear tracks across the bridge of his nose.

Type’s heart clenches. He did that to him.

“Did you really sleep with her?” Tharn asks.

Type shakes his head. His chin is basically on Tharn’s shoulder now, so even if Tharn can’t see him, he can feel him. “I couldn’t do it, Tharn,” he says. He wraps his arm tighter around Tharn’s middle. “Do you hear me? I can’t sleep with women anymore.”

Tharn shifts again, onto his back so he can look at Type. Their faces are so close their noses almost touch, and Type can feel his heart beating double time. He’s terrified of what Tharn might say. He’s been saying for weeks that he likes Type, but that doesn’t mean that Type’s recent behavior hasn’t pushed him away. He’s been kind of off with Type for days now, and Type has ignored it, because he knows it’s because Tharn was disappointed that he wouldn’t come see his gig, and he’d felt bad about it, but determined enough to make a go of things with Puifai to ignore it and just let Tharn be.

But now he’s terrified. What if Tharn doesn’t want him anymore?

“Maybe you’re just tired,” Tharn says. He looks and sounds tired himself.

Type shakes his head. “No. I’m not tired.” If anything, he feels more awake than ever.

“Maybe you’re just not into her,” Tharn suggests.

Type closes his eyes and shakes his head again. “I’m not interested in any women at all,” he says. He needs Tharn to understand what he’s saying and not come up with excuses.

“Maybe you’ll find other men interesting,” is Tharn’s next suggestion, and Type draws in a sharp breath and leans up on his elbow, grabbing the front of Tharn’s top.

“Do you want to die?” he says, as Tharn’s hand moves up to hold his wrist gently. “I’m a man. I don’t want to sleep with any other men. I can only do it with you.” He says the last sentence quietly and hopes his sentiment comes across.

The corners of Tharn’s mouth tug upwards, and his face goes a mixture of relief, disbelief, and happiness.

“So…” he says, trailing off to let Type continue.

Type knows what he wants. He wants Type to say it out loud, directly. So that’s what he does.

“You are the only one I want to sleep with,” he says. Surely there can be no misunderstandings or anything about that. Going by the way Tharn starts smiling, he finally believes what Type is saying. “Please forgive me. Forgive me one more time.”

Tharn slowly puts his hand on the back of Type’s head and gently tilts it down to rest on his shoulder, and Type finally starts crying. He sniffs and clutches Tharn’s shirt tighter in his fist, while Tharn strokes his hair and behind his ear.

“Good boy,” Tharn says softly. “You already know that I can never be angry with you.”

Type takes a shuddering breath. Relief floods through his whole body.

He hasn’t pushed Tharn too far. He hasn’t messed up too badly. He can still be forgiven. He and Tharn can still be something, whatever that might be.

“So,” Tharn says after a pause. “You’re mine now.”

Type lifts his head to look at his face. “It’s you who are mine,” he says, as firmly as he can manage when he’s still crying a little and feeling this emotional. “Because I won’t let you go again.”

That seems to please Tharn a lot. He definitely looks happy about it.

“You already know that I,” he begins, then takes a moment to swallow a lump in his throat, “have always been yours.”

He sounds choked up, like he could start crying any minute, but at least it seems like happy tears. He looks happy. Type hopes Tharn is as happy as he feels himself, hearing those words.

Tharn is his. Tharn has been his for a long time.

He leans up to kiss Tharn’s forehead, but he can’t quite reach that high, so his lips end up just below Tharn’s eyebrow. He kisses his cheek next, and then his lips, and it’s wet and salty, because they’re both crying, but he’s too happy and relieved to think that it’s anything but amazing.

“Is this how you make it up to me?” Tharn asks with a smile when Type pulls back.

“It’s the only way I know,” Type admits.

Tharn laughs a little at that, but Type doesn’t take it personally. He just leans back in for more kisses, and this time he doesn’t pull back. This time, he holds Tharn tighter, and relishes in the way Tharn holds him just as tight.

This time, it feels right.

It feels so utterly right when Tharn maneuvers them around, so that Type is on his back and Tharn is on top of him. It feels right when Type pulls back a little and says, “I want you in me.”

Tharn smiles at him, and that feels more right than when Puifai smiled at him.

Tharn takes his time, going slow as he strips first himself and then Type. He takes his time prepping Type, fingering him slow and careful, in a way Type doesn’t think he’s done since the first time. Type mewls and gasps and clutches at Tharn’s shoulders. It already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. It feels right, like this is exactly what he should be doing and Tharn is exactly who he should be doing it with.

And it feels even more right when Tharn finally pushes into him. He’s still going slow, but Type has to hold his breath and bite his lip to keep from moaning too loudly and letting their neighbors know exactly what they’re doing.

He clings to Tharn the whole time. He grips Tharn’s broad shoulders, strokes and scratches down his strong back, tightens his legs around his hips, while Tharn kisses and bites and sucks on his neck, and everything about this is different from Puifai. She was soft and curvy, and Tharn is all hard planes and no curves. He knocks the wind out of Type with every thrust, just like what Type was thinking about earlier. Despite everything he’s thought his whole life, this is _exactly_ what Type wants most in the world.

 _This_ feels right.

Tharn cleans Type off with a wet washcloth, softly and carefully, and Type feels… cared for, is probably the best way to describe it. More so than he ever has before.

Or maybe it’s just the first time he’s letting himself _really_ acknowledge how much Tharn cares for him.

Once he deems Type clean, Tharn sits down with his back against the headboard and pulls Type closer. Type goes willingly. He wants to be as close to Tharn as possible right now, after the night (the _week_ ) they’ve had. So he settles down with his head on Tharn’s stomach so he can look up at him, and it forces the rest of his body to curve in a way that might at some point get uncomfortable, but Type doesn’t care. He’s perfectly comfortable right now. He just wants to stay there, in Tharn’s arms, on Tharn’s chest, forever.

It’s a scary thought, but not nearly as scary as it was just a few hours ago.

“I’ve missed this,” Tharn says.

Type raises one eyebrow. “It hasn’t been _that_ long.”

And it really hasn’t. It hasn’t even been a week since the last time they had sex. True, neither of them has attempted anything since Type told Tharn he wouldn’t be going to his gig, but that was just a few days ago, and it’s not like that was the first time one of them had tried to start something since they agreed to just be casual lovers.

Type wants to smack himself for asking for that. He hurt two people because he couldn’t admit to wanting more than that. He hadn’t been ready to admit it, no, but still. Hindsight is a bitch.

And Tharn is a fucking horndog, so maybe it’s not so surprising that he’s missed sex.

“I’m not just talking about the sex,” Tharn says. This time, Type raises both his eyebrows. “I’m talking about fucking you without having to tell myself that I was fine with just that.” This is why Type wants to smack himself. “And I’m talking about _this_. The afterglow. Getting to hold you afterwards.”

Type had noticed that Tharn didn’t really bask in the afterglow or cuddle up to him afterwards since agreeing to the casual lovers deal. He’d forced himself not to think too much about it.

“Why did you stop doing that?” Type asks.

“Because I didn’t want to get too attached to you. I knew what we had would end at some point. Probably soon, since you were going after a girl,” Tharn replies quietly. Type’s stomach clenches nervously.

“I’ve cut all contact with Puifai,” he says after a moment. He wants Tharn to know, to have no doubts, that Type will have nothing to with Puifai ever again, no matter what. Tharn hums softly. “I told her I will never see her again. After I came back, I deleted her number and everything. Even if I wanted her back, she probably wouldn’t let me.”

“Why?” Tharn asks. He hasn’t stopped playing with Type’s hair since they settled down like this, and Type doesn’t want him to.

“I told her I’m dating someone,” Type replies.

Tharn’s eyebrows go up in surprise, and his head jerks forward, as if he needs to get closer to be sure he heard correctly. “Hm?” he hums, surprised.

“Yeah,” Type says, as firmly as he can manage. “That’s what I said. I told her that when I was with her on the bed.” Tharn leans back. His lips purse, but Type can still see the smile he’s trying to contain. He looks immensely pleased. “And she slapped me.” Tharn pulls a sympathetic face, and Type lets out a huff of laughter. He’d very much had that slap coming. “The slap was nothing compared to what I did to her.”

Tharn hums again. Then, after a moment, he asks, “Will you be okay dating a gay like me?”

Now that’s a good question. Unfortunately, Type doesn’t have a good answer.

Will he be okay dating Tharn? In some ways, yes, very much. He’s definitely okay with the idea of Tharn being his, of Tharn not ever being with anyone else, or even thinking about it. He’s also okay with the idea of belonging to Tharn himself. It makes him feel soft and happy to think about meaning that much to the man who means that much to him. He’s most certainly okay with everything that comes with the territory of dating Tharn.

But in other ways, no, he’s not entirely sure he’s okay with it. It’s hard to shake off a feeling he’s had for so many years. Just because Tharn is proving to him that not all gays are bad, and just because he’s actually starting to admit that he might be a little gay too, doesn’t mean that the hatred goes away. Not entirely, at least. It’s also confusing to suddenly feel this way about a man. He’s never felt this way about a man before (not that he’s ever admitted to himself, anyway. Maybe he should sit down and look back on himself at some point. Not yet, though). He’s only ever been attracted to women, and while the idea of not being attracted to women at all anymore is fine in relation to being attracted to Tharn instead, it’s _strange_. He’s not sure what to think about it all.

None of this is the answer that Tharn probably wants, but Type has spent enough time lying to him, and to himself. He’s determined to be honest now.

“Honestly, I really don’t know. I liked women my entire life,” he admits. “I feel like I’m having sex with a man because I’m desperate.”

It’s a nasty part of him that thinks that, but it’s undeniably there. It’s the feeling that the only reason he’s having sex with a man is because he’s horny and desperate for sex and would sleep with anyone just to get some. He hates it, but it’s there.

In a way it’s true. Type _is_ desperate for Tharn, but only because he likes Tharn so much, and because Tharn is _so good_ at what he does. The rest of him, that thinks he’s just desperate for sex and is having it with Tharn because Tharn is there is _wrong_. He knows it’s wrong, even if it’s hard to convince that nasty part of himself of that.

Tharn looks away. He doesn’t look upset, exactly, but he definitely doesn’t look happy either, and Type wants to kick himself for putting that look on his face.

“Hey,” Type says, pouting, and reaches over to hold Tharn’s hand. “Sorry.” That gets Tharn to look at him again. “You know I have a dirty mouth. Don’t get mad.”

Tharn looks away again, but just for a moment.

“Actually,” he begins. “When you returned… I was gonna break it off with you.”

That hurts a lot more than Type thought it would. The idea of Tharn breaking up with him isn’t one he even wants to _think_ about. He hadn’t even really thought about it when he was planning on dating Puifai for real. It hurts too much and it’s too scary. No way. Losing Tharn is not an option anymore. Logically, he knows that it’s unlikely to happen now, but the fact that he pushed Tharn that far, that he was _that_ close to losing him, still hurts. Hopefully they’ve moved away from that edge now.

Tharn is still caressing his ear, which is comforting, given the topic of conversation. “But seeing you now,” Tharn continues, a smile slowly spreading on his face, “I will never ever break up with you. Shocked?”

He’s grinning by now, basically laughing, and Type feels like he’s maybe enjoying himself a little too much.

“Yeah,” he says and gives Tharn’s arm a light shove. “I’m shocked. Because you were going to break it off with me.”

Tharn looks fond for a moment, before his face shifts back to something more serious.

“But I’d been afraid the whole week,” he says. “Because I thought you would break it off with me first.”

Type’s chest does something painful. He did that to Tharn. He made him afraid like that.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I won’t act like a dick again.”

That makes Tharn smile. “You still have some self-awareness.”

Type gives him a “tsk”, because that’s about as threatening as he can manage to be when he’s happy and fucked out.

Tharn leans his head back for a moment, and then looks back at Type with a very excited look on his face.

“Next semester, let’s move off campus,” he suggests.

Type has been wanting to live off campus since he began university, and he’s already been living with Tharn for so long that the idea of living with him off campus doesn’t even make him pause, even though that’s probably what most couples do when the topic of living together comes up.

“My dad won’t let me,” he says, because that’s the only issue.

“I’ll pay the rent myself,” Tharn says. “I want to hear you scream without holding back.”

Well, _that’s_ certainly a thing to say. It’s not that surprising, though. Tharn sometimes seems to be perpetually horny (and Type is not actually complaining about it), and yeah, Type _does_ have to hold back here.

“I think you’re so sexy,” Tharn grins.

“Want me to kick your ass, Tharn?” Type snaps. He doesn’t believe that for a second. He knows he’s good looking, but sexy? That’s not something he’s ever considered himself.

“I really mean it,” Tharn says and he sounds honest enough.

Type frowns. He’s never considered himself sexy, but maybe Tharn really does. “How am I sexy?”

Tharn hums, like he’s thinking about it, and that might have made Type think that he’s lying if not for the immensely pleased look on his face. “You don’t need to know,” he says eventually. “I’ll keep it to myself.”

Not exactly the answer Type was looking for, but he’ll trust Tharn’s opinion. Even if no one else thinks he’s sexy, it’s nice to know that Tharn does. It’s also, in a way, kind of nice to know that Tharn doesn’t want other people to think he’s sexy. He likes the idea of Tharn wanting to keep him all to himself.

That doesn’t mean that he won’t tease Tharn about it, though.

“You must be the jealous type,” he says, giving Tharn a look.

That makes Tharn turn serious again. “Can you date this jealous type guy?” he asks and starts playing with Type’s hair again.

Personally, Type thinks that’s a stupid question.

“I let you have your way with me. What do you think?” he says.

“Then let me have my way all night long,” Tharn says.

His stamina really is impressive, but holy shit, Type does not mind. The idea of Tharn touching him and fucking him all night long sounds amazing, even if it also sounds physically impossible.

But he doesn’t want to stroke Tharn’s ego too much, to he contains his smile and gives him a look of fake indifference instead. “Suit yourself,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage.

Tharn leans down immediately, and Type welcomes it.

He puts a hand on the back of Tharn’s head, threads his fingers through his soft hair, and then lets Tharn maneuver them again. This time, he pulls Type up and gets him on his lap, thighs on either side of Tharn’s hips. One of Tharn’s hands travels to Type’s ass as squeezes a cheek, before his fingers start trailing up and down his crack.

And from there, things escalate wonderfully.

Type doesn’t really need to be prepped again, but Tharn fingers him for a couple of minutes just to be sure, and also just because he likes doing that and Type likes it too. Then Type rolls a condom on him and Tharn helps him sink down, and Type rides him for all he’s worth.

It’s not as slow and careful as the first time, not as _reverent_ , or whatever other romantic shit could be said about round one, but it’s just as loving (which is also some romantic shit, but who the hell _cares_ ). Tharn helps Type move with hands on his thighs and hips, then wraps his arms around his torso and holds him close, strokes down his back and buries his fingers in his hair, and in general doesn’t stop holding Type as close as possible at any point.

And Type clutches at Tharn just as much. He clutches his shoulders (god, Type loves Tharn’s shoulders), his back, buries his hands in Tharn’s hair and tugs, and when Tharn starts kissing and nipping at his neck ( _god_ , Type loves when Tharn pays attention to his neck, and Tharn knows it), Type throws his head back and wishes he could moan as loudly as he wants to.

Stupid thin walls. Stupid nosy neighbors.

Type comes first, because Tharn has better stamina, but Type helps him get there pretty quickly. Tharn then helps Type tip to the side and lie down on his bed, properly this time. Tharn throws away the condom, gets up to get the washcloth he used earlier wet again, and gets Type cleaned up.

He settles down next to Type and slings an arm over his waist.

“You’re getting really good at that,” he says with a smirk.

Type shoves him weakly. “Asshole.”

Okay, yeah, the first time he’d ridden Tharn, he had been nervous. He hadn’t really known what to do. Tharn had to guide him through it at first. But once Type had gotten the hang of it, it had been pretty great. He doesn’t appreciate being reminded of how awkward he probably was at first.

“So that was round two. Think we can do a round three?” Tharn asks. Type stares at him, eyes wide and jaw dropped. “What? You said all night!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d take it literally!” Type protests. Maybe he should’ve known better. “How do you have this much stamina?”

Tharn laughs a little. “I’m not sure I do. But there’s only one way to find out,” he says and pulls Type closer, and Type lets him. Whether this will eventually lead to more sex or not, he likes being in Tharn’s arms. He likes having Tharn in his arms, too, so he wraps his own around Tharn and kisses back when Tharn presses his lips to Type’s.

They do get a round three in later, impressively enough. Type is so wonderfully sated and so exhausted afterwards that Tharn literally has to pull him out of bed to get him to brush his teeth.

Once the dental hygiene has been taken care of, Type collapses on Tharn’s bed, ready to conk the fuck out. Tharn settles in next to him, and if he had more energy, Type might suggest pushing their beds together, but he can hardly keep his eyes open, let alone come with suggestions like that. He just about manages to grab Tharn’s arm and pull it with him when he turns onto his side, so that Tharn is spooning him.

“Sweet dreams,” Tharn whispers and kisses the back of Type’s shoulder.

Type smiles. He hums to show he heard him, and then feels Tharn settle in to sleep comfortably.

Yeah. This feels pretty damn right.

Type wakes up when Tharn wakes him up. He’s gentle about it, but he’s smiling at Type like he’s proud of making Type sleep so much.

“I’ve got breakfast,” he says.

“Mm. Thanks,” Type mumbles. He’s never worth much in the mornings, and Tharn knows it.

This morning, he’s feeling particularly exhausted. He knows why, and the look on Tharn’s face tells him that the asshole knows why too.

Tharn sits down at their table while Type gets his bearings back, somewhat at least.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sounding far too smug for Type’s liking.

“I’m fine,” Type replies, and it’s the truth. His thighs and hips and ass can feel exactly what he got up to last night, but it’s not like he’s never felt like this before, at least physically. He’s fine. All the sex last night has just left him _aching_ and _tired_.

And stupid Tharn is so obviously _smug_ about it. Type would be more annoyed by it if he wasn’t so occupied feeling a bunch of other things. He’s happy about everything that happened last night (both the talking and the frankly amazing sex), but he’s also a little nervous about it all, now that it’s the bright light of a new day, and all the things they said last night will start being more than just words.

The fact that he’s now dating a man makes him feel jittery, in both good and bad ways. He likes knowing that Tharn is his and that he’s Tharn’s, but it also makes him feel a little panicky. Just a few months ago, he still hated gays with a passion, and now he’s _dating_ one. It’s a big change and his feelings on the whole thing are confusing and it’s exhausting.

He doesn’t want to deal with it, either. He wants to just be happy, as happy as he was last night when Tharn forgave him and kissed him and told him he belonged to Type. He wants to spend the energy that he has on those feelings, not the complicated ones.

So instead, he just settles down on his bed with his phone once they’re done eating breakfast, because he can’t really be bothered to do anything today. He’s too tired and too lazy, and too many other things. Tharn has a paper to write, but he grabs his laptop and his pillow and settles down next to Type’s bed, leaning back against it. Type likes the close proximity a lot more than he’ll admit out loud (but at least he can now admit it to himself).

It’s quiet for a while. Type plays games and checks various forms of social media, and Tharn works quietly. The only sounds in the room are the tapping of Tharn’s keyboard and Type’s phone screen.

Then Tharn stretches, and it catches Type’s eye and he looks over at him.

Tharn’s hair looks soft. Well, Type knows it’s soft. He’s had his hands in Tharn’s hair several times.

He wants to touch it. Just… touch it. Run his fingers through it. Pet it.

And he can do that now. Tharn is his boyfriend ( _god_ that’s still weird. He’ll need a few days at least to get used to that). If he wants to touch his boyfriend’s hair, he can. He doesn’t need to ask for permission. He doesn’t have to worry about what kind of message it will send, if Tharn will read more into it than what he wants there to be, because they’re finally on the same page now, and on that page it says that Type can touch Tharn’s hair.

So he goes for it.

He feels strangely nervous as he puts his phone down and slowly reaches out for the back of Tharn’s head, but he’s not scared of it. And the second his fingers make contact with Tharn’s soft hair, the nerves disappear.

This isn’t a big deal. Not really. He’s not sure why he keeps making these kinds of things into big deals in his head, because it’s really not. It’s just nice.

Tharn stiffens for a moment when Type touches the back of his head, but it’s a short moment, probably just surprise, and he relaxes again almost immediately. Type even thinks he can see a smile on his face.

Tharn’s hair is soft, just like Type knew it would be. And touching it like this, all calm and without any other purpose, is calming. Soothing, almost. Or maybe it’s just the fact that he can let himself do things like this now, after having denied himself this for weeks.

Maybe it’s just that Type is feeling incredibly soft today.

For the first time in weeks, he’s not fighting with himself or anyone else. He’s not anxiously awaiting bad reactions from someone. He’s just soft and relaxed and happy. He’s with the person he likes (the _guy_ he likes), without any pretenses of their relationship being something it’s not. They’re no longer fighting, there’s no tense air between them, just happiness and contentment.

That doesn’t mean that there aren’t still plenty of things for Type to be anxious about. He’s worried about what Champ will say next time they see each other, when he’ll no doubt have heard from Puifai that he rejected her because he’s with someone. He’s worried about other people finding out about his and Tharn’s relationship, because he’s in no way ready for anyone to know, and he doesn’t know if he ever will be ready, and that makes him nervous too, because what if that causes problems with Tharn?

But for now, in this moment, Type can ignore all of that and just enjoy running his fingers through Tharn’s hair, like they’re any other normal couple.

“Having fun?” Tharn asks playfully.

Type smiles a little more. “Yeah.” He doesn’t stop stroking the back of Tharn’s head.

“If you’re having fun,” Tharn begins, and Type can hear the pleased smile on his face just as much as he can see it, “keep doing it.”

Like Type had any intentions of stopping, anyway.

Except now he kind of does, because now he wants to kiss Tharn.

And he can. That’s another thing he can just do now, whenever he wants, without any underlying reasons or excuses.

So just like with the hair, Type goes for it. He puts one hand on the back of Tharn’s neck and the other on his chin to turn his face around. Tharn moves his head easily, and Type plants a kiss on his lips as soon as Tharn’s head is angled right.

For a moment, Tharn is frozen. Type can tell because he’s not kissing back, but Type doesn’t let that spook him. He just keeps his eyes closed and keeps kissing Tharn, because he’s pretty sure Tharn just needs a moment to get with the program. And that is proven true when Type goes for a second kiss and Tharn kisses him back.

It’s a soft kiss. It’s on the romantic side, Type thinks, and he can’t make himself feel anything but happy about it. Tharn is his _boyfriend_ now. They can have _romantic_ kisses, damnit, and Type will not let anything get in his way of enjoying it. Not now that he’s finally admitted how much he wants it. Not today.

They pull back not long after, but they keep their heads close.

God, Type really can’t remember the last time he felt so soft and content, the way he does now.

“Ai’Type…” Tharn mumbles. He’s staring at Type with something almost like wonder in his face, and it hits Type suddenly, with startling clarity, that this is the first time he’s kissed Tharn without it being an apology or leading to sex.

It’s a little bit of a big deal.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” he says, because he doesn’t want to acknowledge that that kiss was kind of special.

And also because he does really want to take a nap. He’s _so tired_.

He gets comfy and closes his eyes, and then he hears Tharn. “Sweet dreams,” he says, and Type can’t help the smile that spreads on his face. He doesn’t want to stop it, either. He wants to just be happy.

Because all of this – the close proximity and the soft touches and words and kisses that aren’t just about sex or apologies – it all feels _right_.

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at writing sex scenes, so sorry about that.
> 
> I'm a little nervous about whether some of Type's thoughts and inner monologues feel a little repetitive, so if you think so, please let me know. If you'd be interested in more fics based on episodes from Type's point of view (or someone else's), then also let me know.


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